Wow. Just wow. This conversation was so incredible. I’ve been thinking a lot about what we mean when we talk about creative work being “serious.” Who gets to claim that designation, and who doesn’t. What kinds of labor are seen as legitimate, necessary, even noble, and what gets dismissed as indulgent or ornamental, even when it’s doing real emotional work in people’s lives. That tension sat at the center of my recent conversation with the brilliant and incomparable Tyka Pryde. What struck me most wasn’t just the impressive breadth of Tyka’s career, from television and interior design to launching her own furniture line, but the clarity with which she understands why she creates. I don’t mean in a branding sense, but in a purpose-driven, I know who the hell I am sense. Her work responds to people’s emotional lives, and it answers a need for safety, meaning, and orientation when the world feels unstable and uncertain. There’s a way so many of us have been trained to think about creativity as something separate from survival, almost as if beauty, pleasure, and imagination live on a lower rung than productivity or “impact.” Those controlling the levers of power would have us believe that creative work is secondary to politics, law, medicine or finance, or art is something you return to once the “real” work is done. This conversation with Tyka pushes back against that hierarchy with a real clarity about the role of the artist. She talked about interior design not as aesthetics, but as nervous system regulation, which gave me language for something I’ve long felt, but never really articulated. She dug into the history of how the way we arrange our spaces helps our bodies understand whether we are safe or not, and about how color, texture, light, and intention shape how we move through our days, how we rest, how we create, how we recover, and how we work. That framing feels majorly important right now, especially when so many people (it’s me, I’m people) are carrying persistent low-grade dread while carrying on as if everything is normal. What also stayed with me was how honest she was about the messiness of building a creative career. Again, with real clarity, she pushed back on the false idea that creative work should arrive fully-formed, highlighting the idea that we need push back on the pressure to be perfect before we begin, and let go of the fear of being seen trying. Tyka was clear that if she had waited until everything was refined, optimized, and pristine, she would never have started. Instead, she building her stunning furniture collection in public, and learning in real-time alongside her audience. Note: This conversation is separate from the Cashmere and Collard Greens Syllabus series. The syllabus is its own project, with a different structure and intention. That said, if you enjoyed this exchange and the kind of thinking it holds, the Cashmere and Collard Greens Syllabus series launches January 10th and explores many of these themes through longer conversations, reflections, and guided prompts. You can subscribe now to receive it when it goes live. Get full access to Cashmere & Collard Greens at cashmereandcollardgreens.substack.com/subscribe
